I wore the best angora wool,
Ate the
finest angus prime rib…
Baked only
free range chickens;
Hobby
farming’s what I did.
I scrambled
giant goose eggs
Fried bacon
from the kid’s pet pig…
Ate catfish
from my garden pond,
With frog’s
legs that I gigged.
I made
wallets for Christmas gifts,
From the
finest home-tanned leather…
I hand
plucked pounds of goose down,
To stuff
blankets for winter weather.
Now these
vain accomplishments,
Haunt and
torment my guilty strife.
These farm
animals were loyal to me,
And I failed
to save their life.
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